History repeats itself

My eyes they tell a story,
of someone very strong,
of a loved one close by,
who done something wrong.

yes i still love him,
yea he is my dad,
but what he did that very night,
was really very bad.

he clasped his hands around my neck,
and held me to the wall,
made me feel afraid,
made me feel so small.

not knowing what to do,
i grabbed for my keys,
quickly running out the door,
body trembling to my knees.

running to a friends house,
i suddenly realized,
what had just happened,
wasn't such a surprise.

see when i was a child,
he used to hit my mum,
us locked up in the bathroom,
him thinking that he'd won.

a repeat performance,
from so long ago,
always doubted the fact,
that he'd stoop so low.

now hes out my life,
and we rarely speak,
its him all alone,
its him thats feeling weak.

hes lost all his loved ones,
and i know its not nice,
but he done what he did,
not once but twice.